It's almost two and a half years ago, while six months pregnant (? shit at Maths), that I painted Lil's nursery a pale mint. Her nursery that was never actually slept in. Then it turned in to a playroom. But just a few months short of her second birthday, I'm moving her into her own room. Sob. Her nursery / playroom is now becoming her bedroom.

I'm excited, it's a new project. I like decorating. I'm also excited because my room, my quiet sanctuary, will be mine again. But I'm also very sad. Lil has slept in the same room as me for twenty two months. Some of you may think that's far too long but I've always been a fan of attachment parenting. And anyway, I slept in bed with my Mum for much longer.

Waaaaaah

I've made a point of talking to Lilian about the changes that are happening, taking her into her room and telling her what's going to happen. She watched her Grampy measure the window for new blinds and has shown interest when I mentioned the word 'paint'. I figured that if she was a part of this change, if she helped, the transition would be a lot smoother. I hope I'm not kidding myself and that she'll enjoy her new room in her new bed but I'm prepared for a month or so of sleepless nights.

So yes, exciting but small changes are happening. Even if they do make me do a massive bit of a cry.

So Valentines Day is looming and unfortunately for me, we don't really celebrate it in this house. But that doesn't mean I can't share with you some of my favourite gift ideas (for us girls, of course).

Instead, I'm going to buy myself a little Valentines treat. The first step to happiness, after all, is loving yourself....

He couldn't come home and help me, because he works full time in a big office full of self-important dickheads. His job is far too important and he cannot just leave. He is the one who pays for the clothes I'm sitting in (which are actually falling apart), he pays for the coffee I'm drinking and the food that sits uneaten in the fridge. He pays the for central heating that shouldn't really be on because it pisses him off that I have it on quite a bit (it's fucking minus 3 out). He cannot hear the desperation in his wife's voice, he cannot leave early. He makes the money, he is breadwinner and he bangs his chest. Anyway, he said, he will go in late tomorrow to give me some time back. What a guy!

I'm being negative aren't I? And quite harsh and nasty. Well do you know what? I don't fucking care. I'm having a bad day and I'm getting zero support from the man who wanted a child. That's not fair, I hear him whine. Ah so that's where Lil got her whining from. It all makes sense now.

Do any of you lot ever have days like this? Oh of course you do. You have vaginas, baby daddies and kids. I feel unappreciated. I feel like a robot. MAKE BREAKFAST GET DRESSED ENTERTAIN CHILD DO THE WASHING IRON CLOTHES CLEAN HOUSE HOOVER ENTERTAIN CHILD LUST AFTER CLOTHES YOU CANNOT HAVE CLEAN TIDY ENTERTAIN CHILD TIDY MAKE LUNCH MAKE DINNER SERVE CHILD AND HER FATHER I AM A MOTHER FUCKING ROBOT. Ohhhhhhhhh MATE.

What the fuck do we have to do to feel like we are ACTUAL human beings who deserve care and attention and pretty things? Somebody please tell me. I'm sick to the teeth of feeling like a servant and then when I moan about it... 'I don't ask you to do my washing and ironing...' Babe, say that again and see what happens. I dare you. Dare dare double dare. Go on.
I am grateful that I can stay home and look after Lil (most of the time) and thankful he suggested I do this degree and he'd continue to 'provide for me'. I really am. I have zero income, I don't get paid to do my job (because let's face it, being a mother is a job a lot of the time) although men think them 'providing' for us is our salary. NEWSFLASH: it ain't.

So I find myself in a not very nice predicament. I'm sick of having no money, of having a wardrobe that is three quarters empty. I don't need to do this degree, it's a luxury - totally. Another luxury I am grateful for. But I want to feel alive again, not feel like a piece of machinery HAVE A SHOWER CLEAN THE KITCHEN PUT CHILD TO BED TIDY IRON. As much as it would be amazing to study again, study something I adore... a large part of me thinks going back to work and having some dollar in my pocket may save my sanity. Because as much as 'money isn't everything', it sure as hell makes you feel good when you can stroll in to a shop and buy that dress you like without your husband huffing and puffing, because it's your money you worked hard for.

I've made it no secret I joined the gym. The more 'likes' I get for my gym gear pictures on Instagram, the more motivated I become. If you favourite my tweet about spin class, I'm literally spinning. I CAN DO THIS! PEOPLE LIKE THAT I'M GETTING FIT, YEAH! I shout to myself in the mirror (lie).

But why am I doing it? Why do I sit on a bike for 45 minutes, trying not to vomit just to feel as though I've had five rolling pins shoved up my arse? Why do I swing weights round and round, trying not to knock myself out? Because I want to be fit? No. Because I want to be healthy? NO. Because I am vain.

She's so vain, I bet she thinks this song is about her....

But you're right, I'm not getting any younger and I can't just eat a pack of biscuits anymore without gaining half a stone and three inches around my waist. I can't walk around the block three times and burn 1000 calories like I used to. I have to work hard if I want the body of my twenty year old former self back, damn hard.
I go to the gym not because I want my bpm to be a good rate (I don't know what I'm talking about) but because I want all the twenty two year old boys in Ibiza to go PWHOAR. I want to step out of the shower and not feel my belly wobble (I wish going to the gym would tone my tits up, Jesus...). I want my body to be TIGHT.

At this point you've probably realised I'm one of the vainest people on the planet (you haven't met my little brother). Not true and a harsh judgement you've just made, shame on you. I do want to be healthy, I was only messing around before (lie) but I also want to look good. Having a baby has knocked my body confidence a bit (might have something to do with chocolate hobnobs too), but I'm determined to build it back up again for the summer. I CAN DO THIS.

She writes, eating a bagel and dreaming of all the crap she's going to scoff in New York...

Up until a few months ago, what your kid wore to bed was irrelevant. But all that changed when The Bright Company went live. Boy did it change. Kids all over the country were snapped in amazing, bright pyjamas from Twitter to Instagram and on blogs everywhere. No more high street crap. This amazing new brand had landed.

So what is TBC all about?

'We’re called The Bright Company because we believe in bright young things with bright futures... in kids being kids and having clothes that work, are warm and easy to move in. Our sleepwear products are designed to fit the needs of children’s movement for their stage of development.

Colour and print is very important to us. We will never use any generic or ‘traditional’ baby style prints such as tractors for boys or butterflies for girls. We don’t like pastel pink or blue, we like strong block colours. We believe that kids shouldn’t be stereotyped by being dressed in gender-typecasting clothes; for this reason our whole collection is unisex.'

'The Bright Company is owned and run by Alienor Falconer, who founded the business in the summer of 2012 after having spent 6 years in the fashion industry as a product developer, most recently for the leading British fashion label Paul Smith. Keen to promote British industry herself, Alienor and The Bright Company work exclusively with UK-based partners in print and production.'

Ali started the company after having her son, Corwin, and getting frustrated with endless isles of boys and girls clothing and sleepwear. She couldn't understand why they needed to be separate and why so much of it was such insipid colours. It's Ali's vision that we can have beautiful prints and colour on the sleepwear for our babies just as we would choose for ourselves.

There is a lot in the pipeline for TBC, including blankets and sleeping bags next season as well as sleepsuits and bundlers. Ali and TBC would also like to produce bedding and expand their size ranges and style offerings (yesssssss adult sizes please Ali!). So the future of TBC looks bright (sorrrrrrrrrry), I can't wait!

Here is what she has to say about Motherhood...

NAME Alienor

OCCUPATION Company Director, Mother

WHAT DID YOUR LIFE CONSIST OF BEFORE YOU BECAME A MAMA?

Professionally I worked for Paul Smith as a footwear product developer, so I spent a lot of time making lovely shoes, travelling the world to factories and trade shows. Personally I went out to bars and restaurants and saw all my lovely friends loads and had money!

HOW HAS BECOMING A MOTHER MADE YOU A BETTER PERSON?

Patience! I was seriously impatient before, I guess my job didn't help, but Corwin has taught me great patience which I really value.

ASIDE FROM CONCEALER, WHAT CANT YOU LIVE WITHOUT NOW YOU HAVE A CHILD?

My iPhone, it keeps me connected now I'm not sat at a computer all day

WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE A FIRST TIME MUM?

Where to start! Enjoy it, those days when they will only sleep on you seem long but the months are short and soon enough they are a toddler who screams when you try to kiss them goodnight!

HOW HAS YOUR WARDROBE CHANGED SINCE HAVING A BABY?

I wear so much more jersey, everything I've brought since Corwin was born is so much more casual than my previous wardrobe. I have a wardrobe full of beautiful designer clothes which I daren't wear around Corwin but that make me feel too dressed up when I wear them out without him.

CAKE OR BISCUITS?

What kind of a question is that?! Both.

WHAT OR WHO INSPIRES YOU?

Every mamma I've met is an inspiration in some way, each of us is doing the hardest job in the world and trying to keep it sane!

DO YOU HAVE ANY SECRETS OR TIPS TO MAKING MOTHERHOOD THAT BIT EASIER?

Um no! make the most of the time that they sleep to do things for yourself.

The many midwives I met throughout my pregnancy were, in my mind, stereotypical ones. Dowdy, big boobed and DULL. The midwife who was going to deliver my little bundle of joy wasn't like the others, she was tall and blonde and lovely although she didn't deliver Lil but was there when they pulled her out of my abdomen. She did, however, hand me a shot of Morphine. Bitch did good.

There has only been one midwife I have met (not during pregnancy but most recently) that has made me go PHWOAR SHE'S HOT LOOK AT HER EYES SHE'S WELL PRETTY I WISH I LOOKED LIKE HER NO WAY IS SHE A MIDWIFE MORE LIKE A MILF. And her name was Clemmie.

Clemmie: see, hawt.

Clemmie's blog, Gas and Air, is where she shares her knowledge and wisdom on being a wife and mother. She tells stories about pregnancy, birth and motherhood and includes all the gory bits too. From tips and tricks to what to pack in your hospital bag, Clemmie covers it all. Even though I have no desire to spawn another devil child, I still keep up with her blog - it's such an interesting (and funny) read. Go have a read.

The obvious one I
suppose is to say I’m less selfish but to be honest in a way I’m more selfish
and by that I mean I’m much more aware of when I need me time and I’m certainly
not afraid to say when I need that. Even if it’s going for a run, having a long
bath or cranking up the stereo and having a mini rave to an old school classic
in the kitchen. Just a few moments
of losing myself makes me remember who I am, what I still love, that I’m still
alive and functioning and that makes me a better person.

Clemmie and her two gorgeous girls

ASIDE FROM CONCEALER,
WHAT CANT YOU LIVE WITHOUT NOW YOU HAVE KIDS?

Wine, dry shampoo and
Peppa Pig

WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU
GIVE A FIRST TIME MUM?

Try and not think
you’ll be in your trackie bums on the sofa for ever, because all you need is a
few like minded mums, coffee and cake to get you out and about. Get out there
and meet people, get to know your local area, visit museums, art galleries,
baby friendly cinemas. And remember if your baby is waking every 2 hours at
night, it’s just a phase, it won’t last forever and before you know it you’ll
be back at work and you’ll look at your toddler and think ‘where the hell did
that go?’ And if that all fails there’s always Whistles ;)

HOW HAS YOUR WARDROBE
CHANGED SINCE HAVING A BABY?

My style has changed
hugely over 5 years, I think I’m more confident at 28 with my image and body
than I was at 23. Rather than splurging on high fashion trends, I prefer to
shop about and not always go for the obvious choice in styles. Buying key
pieces is something I always read about but never believed in until now. Yikes
I sound old.

CAKE OR BISCUITS?

Cake

WHAT OR WHO INSPIRES
YOU?

Other Mums of course,
I try not to be too influenced buy them but some of my best friends are those
I’ve met since becoming a Mum. Without them I wouldn’t be who I am today. My husband inspires me to follow my gut
feelings about everything, he manages to sort out my little problems and he’s
always bloody right, most of the time.

DO YOU HAVE ANY
SECRETS OR TIPS TO MAKING MOTHERHOOD THAT BIT EASIER?

Date night! With
girlfriends make sure cocktails and dancing is always involved. There’s nothing
better than dancing with your friends with not a care in the world until 3am.
With your partner, no baby talk allowed, get spruced up, go for dinner, buy a
really expensive bottle of wine, eat delicious food and go home and have
sex. And most importantly don’t
let the guilt get to you, it comes when you become a mother, it’s part of being
a Mum just ask your own Mum, they generally know everything.

Clemmie is on Twitter
You can read her fabulous stories and find out lots more here.

So you know the other day? The other day when Lil had seventy five tantrums and I was going to break and neck a bottle of wine? Well, I did. I broke so hard and drank a whole bottle. Now before you all turn up at my door with pitch forks, a night off was allowed. It's in the rule book. But in return I had to donate £15. Christ, I would have donated £100 for a glass of wine. That is how bad it was.

I won't lie and say I felt bad because I didn't, I was in a sorry state by the fourth tantrum of the day. And then she spat on the carpet.

I'd gone seventeen days without a drink, that is an achievement in itself (for me). The fact you are given a golden pass when you sign up to start the Dryathlon is genius, bloody genius and I'm pretty sure it saved my sanity. But I'm back on the wagon for the rest of the month and determined not to let that kid break me again.

This morning has been a write off. I witnessed the most violent tantrum from a (not so) tiny 21 month old and in the process had a chunk ripped from my neck. I do believe folk call this theterrible twos. Fan-fucking-tastic.

With just over two months until she turns two years, I feel robbed. What bastard invented tantrums, hmm? Who dubbed it the 'terrible twos' because they got it bloody wrong. Try the god awful, vile twos...

Ugly cry face

I tried to stay calm whilst watching my child wreck the lounge and occasionally ducking as she threw stuff everywhere, I really tried. But tipping over her art easel kinda did it for me because of the sheer force. Possesed, a livid little being. So I lifted her up and took her upstair to her cot, being kicked and scratched in the process, and calmly (pah) put her down. Twenty minutes later, she had collapsed into an exhausted heap and was snoring.

Let's hope this afternoon is better for us otherwise I'll be declaring dry January officially OVER.

I'm halfway there, I'm halfway there, I'm halfway there. Yesterday was the day I was going to break, if I was going to break. But I didn't so go me.

I have a shitty cold (thanks Lil) so I've been feeling gross and today was the day I finally got my shit together and went to the gym for the first time in a long time. Again, go me. I will have a tight body for Ibiza, I WILL. So yeah, yesterday was hard... Lil was being a total pain in the backside (teething last four molars - I can see the light) and I felt rough. Naturally all I wanted to do was down a large glass of wine and sleep. Ah sleep, not had a decent run of that in a while... But I carried on like a BOSS and just like that it was day sixteen.

Gym gear innit.

Lil is at nursery, I've been to the gym and, AND.... I've started studying. Procrastinating still, but studying also. I have only weeks left until I start my degree so I'm trying to get organised (pah). Once I've kicked this cold up the arse there is no stopping me... Ooh a new magazine....

P.S Was it YOU who commented (anonymously) that you're studying Eng Lit at the OU too? If yes, PLEASE email me!

Today I am wallowing in self pity, a luxury I wasn't going to allow myself anymore but I woke up feeling under the weather. I feel like I've lost all my confidence as far as my body is concerned and the thought of getting naked and catching a glimpse of myself makes me cringe. I've gained all the weight I lost when I had the sickness bug so I'm back to feeling like a lump again and what calories I'm not consuming through booze are being consumed through crap. I'm short of patience and I'm tired. I want a glass of wine.

Meh.

I had the best intentions of getting up at 7am for a run this morning but a sore throat and fuzzy head saw me rolling over and going back to sleep. Big mistake. Everything is annoying me and I want to punch everyone on Balamory in the head. So much for no negativity, I need to pull myself out of this funk.

Once I've had a cry and a cup of tea, I'm going to blast my eardrums with some hiphop and do the hoovering. And maybe some online shopping. Then tomorrow, I'll run.

I try to get excited about the little things in life because those are the things that bring me great pleasure: my favourite dinner, seeing a special friend, a rare night out somewhere classy (very rare), but there is always something in particular, something rather large that I get so completely excited about. New York.

My first trip was for work, four years ago, and since then I've been back four times, once with Lil.It's easily my favourite place in the world, I can't tell you just how much I love being there. Not for the touristy crap or to go drinking in the hippest of bars, but just being there. I find it hard to be mad or scowl when I'm there, it's just wonderful and I would forfeit a summer holiday and Christmas just to go back. Every year.So when Tim asked me if Lil and I would like to join him in LA for work in February, I replied 'I'd rather go to New York.'

She was so tiny!

Santa got my letter! We're going to New York.

It was yesterday that I had butterflies upon seeing Andrea of flannery o' kafka's facebook status, announcing she was going to be in NY early March too. Andrea is the most amazing photographer, my favourite in fact. She captures children in the most beautiful, breathtaking shots. It's fate, I thought. And then I received the email...

Not only is Lil being shot by my favourite photographer, she's being photographed in my favourite city. Dreams do come true...

I haven't had a drink for nine whole days! For me this is quite an achievement. I'm still not sleeping that well, it takes around two hours for me to properly switch off. Without alcohol making my brain fuzzy, I have lots going around in my head. Now my head is clearer, I can see that alcohol shuts things off for me: emotions, worries... you know the deal.

A slightly delirious, excited face. More on that later...

So I'm still awfully tired but that also has a lot to do with Lil's last four teeth cutting. Back molars are not fun and wine helps me through teething. Or at least it did. But my brain, oh my brain is as clear as it's ever been. I have so many lists to make and things to plan, the calendar is filling up super quick with new adventures and trips to far away islands (most recently, New York and Ibiza). I'm still finding it hard not to procrastinate but it's something I'm working on. One thing at a time, right?!

I haven't always been a pessimist. Back before I had Lilian, there were spells where I was the most optimistic person you'd meet on a Monday morning during rush hour. I loved my daily commute into London, I loved my job (although some of the people I worked with, not so much) and I loved how things were working out for me. Growing up, however, I was quite the opposite. I won't bore you with a sob story but it was quite tough and my relationship with my parents was never great. They brought a lot of drama into my life and for a long time it was anything but quiet. Now I know everyone loves a bit of drama, it's what keeps life exciting. I prefer to watch drama on the TV, Emmerdale being my favourite source of it. In real life, however, I'm not such a fan. These are my ideal scenario's when it comes to drama: Sainsbury's run out of my favourite toothpaste, Lil throws a paddy in the library, ASOS don't have the dress in my size. Now those are dramas I can deal with.

No dramas here

Unwanted drama brings unwanted negativity into your life. I'd rather bypass this and be happy but unfortunately life doesn't always bring you what you'd like. So after reading this post by Drea I decided that now was the time for me to purge. Now is the time for me to remove any negativity from our lives because I don't want my daughter growing up to be a pessimist. Life is too short to worry about someone else's negative disposition. Drea's words have stuck with me. She is so right. I have a little person depending on me, her big eyes look up at me with hope and wonder. I don't want her to see me scowl and frown and sigh because of some negativity that's entered our lives, I want her to see me smile and laugh (and my teeth sparkle white because Sainsbo's have my favourite toothpaste in stock). So my purge starts here. Anything negative that gets thrown our way is going to be spun into a positive. Any drama that someone tries to bring to our lives will be turned away. I'm done with dealing with negativity. We're living, breathing air in to our lungs and we should be grateful that we are here on this planet. From right now, I'm going to practise removing negativity from our lives. Life may not be full of marshmallow trees and lollipop fences but I'll be damned if Lil grows up in a negative environment with a life full of drama. So here's to a positive future empty of as much drama, negative thoughts and judgements as possible.

Every Mum I meet or speak to inspires me in some way or another. Whether it's creatively, physically or mentally, each and every one makes me think hard about the Mother I am and my actions/lifestyle (I have a whole list of them under 'Mum's on the left hand side of this blog... look, right there).

One Mum who has stopped me right in my tracks is Hattie. This woman had me shouting out 'YEAH!' this morning. This woman makes sense. She has inspired me. Go and read about a new journey she is starting with her family: an amazing journey that I'm inspired to take and have spent the morning discussing with my husband. This is one adventure I'm so excited to follow and take inspiration from. I hope you'll join me in supporting this wonderful new blog.

Insomnia is kicking my arse over here and when I do sleep, Lil wakes up with a bloody blocked nose/teething. That's right, she's ill again. This time with the common cold. My body feels like it's getting ready to shut down from tiredness and I ache like crazy from yesterday's first run of the year (I survived!) BUT tomorrow it'll be seven days since I last had a drink. One whole week! I don't remember the last time that happened.

Hard to miss: leggings - old season Topshop, running shoes - Nike

I've thought about wine a lot and we appear to have accrued more of it. I feel like a lion with a plate of steak in front of me (can you tell we've been watching Madagascar a billion times a week?), dayum it's hard.

This week I shall be mainly exercising, not sleeping, looking after a poorly kid and meal planning for next week. Oh, and studying. One month until I start my degree. Oy....

I'm exhausted. Newborn 'I haven't slept for days' tiredness. Another discovery: booze for me is what sleeping pills are to others. Exactly that. Does that even make sense? Have I lost the plot?

On Tuesday it took me over four hours to get to sleep. The last time I looked at the clock it was 2:30am and before I knew it I was awake again. And last night? Pretty much the same. I woke up a few times and found it almost impossible to get back to sleep. Today my eyes sting and my body aches. And the bags? Even my new (expensive) concealer isn't concealing.

To help my ever growing eyebags. Get yours here (the reviews are great)

I've tried white noise, exercise, herbal tea, cutting out caffeine. All of these all at once and nothing, that bastard insomnia is going to get the better of me - I just know it.

On a more positive note, not once today have I thought 'I'd quite like a glass of wine' unlike yesterday where I was pretty sure I was going to crack and fetch a bottle from the garage. Go me. Maybe it's the tiredness.

Three down, however many to go...

If you'd like to support me on my journey for Cancer Research UK, you can do so here.

If you haven't read my nonsense for a while, I'm going booze free in January.Today was day one and I'd be lying if I said it never even crossed my mind to have a drink. I wanted some rum in my hot chocolate at the seaside and as Lil goes back to nursery tomorrow (this for me is like her going for the first time really as she's only been once), my anxiety issues have reared their ugly heads again. What if she doesn't like it? How will I cope without my little pal for a whole day? My reaction to this would normally be to have a drink or two. Reaching for the booze when I'm feeling anxious is what I do which, now I've really thought about it, mortifies me. It would seem me and booze have a few issues we need to sort out and maybe I need to go back to the doctors to discuss these anxiety attacks.

What I was hoping was going to be light hearted fun raising money for charity has actually made me realise I have a few more problems than I cared to admit. I'm not an alcoholic, I'm pretty aware of the signs, but laying off the booze for a whole 31 days is going to be hard. It's my comfort blanket, something I hide under when times get tough. Without it, I'm naked (thankfully not literally, not yet anyway - off booze and back on the ol' 31 Day Shred... I aim to be pretty fucking buff at the end of these thirty one days). Now I have to show my emotions (or maybe I could just smoke some weed?) and deal with them, yippee-i-yay.

Ugh. Not the best start to 2013. I'm going to kick this problem up the fucking arse...